Night on the Town
by Ruthless Bunny
Summary: My what a disciplined fellow Robert Goren is.


You just had to know where the place was. He walked up to the door and hesitated. He hated that he was here, every time he swore it would be the last time and yet, here he was again. He cursed his weakness and he opened the door.

Flo stood behind the desk, and smiled at him in recognition. "Good evening Robert."

"Hello Flo. Anything new?" He looked around at the small reception area.

"No. Oh, wait, I'm lying, there is something new." She smiled and winked at him, "you'll have to let Lisa show you. I think you might like it."

He passed the twenty towards her and she buzzed him in. He walked through the short hallway, past the doors of the private rooms and into the 'kitchen'. A couple sat on a small loveseat and sipped at drinks in bright red plastic cups. The woman wore a black cat-suit and a studded collar. She clutched a cat-o-nine tails in her hand. _Going with a theme_ he thought to himself and he bent down to open the small fridge and fish out a can of coke. He took the fifth of rum that he had brought with him and poured himself a drink. He held the bottle up as an offering to Catwoman and she held out her cup in acceptance. "Say when." He poured and she watched the liquid spill into her drink.

"When?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe later." He nodded at her, she nodded back and he wandered into the larger 'show' area and sat at one of the small tables. He nursed his drink and watched as people milled around. A man hung from the ceiling in fur handcuffs as two women slapped at his pasty, white skin with leather paddles. He made a big show of moaning and yelping, but they weren't really hitting him all that hard. _He's in it for the drama, not the pain_, he thought.

A chain-link fence separated the audience area from the 'show' room. Behind the fence people were setting up the show. Fire and Ice. It promised to be intense. The familiar strains of Enigma started and people settled down into seats for the show. A red light illuminated the 'stage' and three women walked out. The first was a blonde, wearing a red bra and panties. The bra barely contained her swollen implants. A redhead dressed in black, shiny latex held her hands behind her, nudging her along with the end of a large bullwhip. It was the last woman that held his attention. She was a tall, thin brunette. Her straight, black hair cut in bangs, the rest cascading down her back. Her creamy skin was set off by a form fitting, burgundy velvet corset dress. He fixated on the laces and for a moment, he thought about slowly undoing her bodice. He smiled and focused on the scene.

The woman in red was strapped down onto a wooden table. She whimpered as she was blindfolded. The woman in burgundy, the mistress said, loud enough to be heard by the audience, but speaking barely above a whisper, "do you want the gag?"

"No, m'am."

"Then you need to be respectful. Silence." She took an ice cube from a crystal bowl and rubbed it on the exposed skin of the submissive. "Oh, it's cold isn't it?" People in the audience were riveted. Slowly the ice cube traveled up a leg, across her stomach, up an arm, across the curve of her breasts. She writhed and moaned. "Oh dear, you've displeased me." The mistress stopped and snapped her fingers. The woman in black retrieved the leather gag.

"No, please, I'll be good." She tossed her head back and forth but it did no good. The woman in black waited.

The mistress ordered, "Open your mouth." The submissive did as she was told and the leather gag was placed in her mouth and secured. The mistress turned to the audience and said, "I'm very strict." Heads nodded, each wishing that they had her attention. "Now for the fire."

The submissive tensed in anticipation. The woman in black brought the burning candle to the mistress. She dipped her pinky into the puddle of wax, "perfect," she declared. She tipped the candle and let a few drops of hot wax fall on the stomach of the submissive. She tried to scream through the gag, but it came out as a whine. The mistress tipped the candle again and wax fell on the submissive's breasts. She struggled against the restraints. The mistress took an ice cube and slid it over the areas where the wax had started to dry.

It alternated like that, cold ice, hot wax. The more the submissive cried out, the more the audience enjoyed it. Towards the conclusion, two candles were used and the submissive was brought to tears. The tension in the room was palpable. Women licked their lips and the men shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

The mistress stepped forward, "we hope you've enjoyed our demonstration. We'll open the room for your enjoyment." She had her assistant roll back the gate and the lights brightened a bit. It was possible to see the wall with various whips and devices of restraint. In the common area sat racks, chairs and other sturdy objects upon which subjects might be bound.

He tried to be casual, but he willed her to come over to him with his eyes. She saw his gaze and ignored him, or rather denied him. Mistress Lisa moved through the crowd effortlessly. She avoided meeting the eyes of the customers, rather she looked slightly above their heads. She spoke quietly to some, just a few words, parsimonious with her presence. He thought he'd pour another drink, but then decided against it. He betrayed his impatience by rattling the ice around in his cup.

He didn't look behind him, but he knew she was there. "So you've come I see."

He shrugged, "yes."

"I'm glad. Do you want to see me in private?" She lured him with her voice.

"Yes." He rose from his seat and noted, not for the first time, that he could rest his chin on her head.

She led him to her private room. Sheer, silken fabric hung from the ceiling and the wall. It was furnished with a chair and a bed. She motioned for him to sit on the bed. She chose the chair. "What brings you here tonight?"

"You." He smiled boyishly, hoping his charm would work.

She slapped him across the face. "The truth," she demanded.

He rubbed his red cheek, "that was the truth." He felt tears in his eyes and ducked his head so she wouldn't see.

"I don't believe you, I think you have another reason." She caressed his face, soothing away the sting of her strike.

He bowed his head. "I've done it again."

"That's better. Tell me about it." She tilted his head so that his eyes met hers.

"I lied, I manipulated...I did what I always do." His cheeks burned with shame.

"You're dishonest." She ran her manicured fingers through his hair.

"Yes." He shivered under her touch.

"You deceive people."

"Yes."

"You get people to betray themselves, their friends, their family."

"Yes." His voice cracked.

"And you deceive yourself too. Don't you?"

He nodded, too overcome to answer.

"What lie did you tell yourself today?" He remained silent, struggling. "Tell me!"

"I-I tell myself that it's justified, that they want to confess, that it's better for them to confess." He could not bring himself to take his eyes off of her beautiful face.

"It's not?" She observed him, tracing the contours of his face with her slender fingers.

"Not for them. They're desperate. I play on their pride, fear, their basest emotions. So many times I can understand why..." He closed his eyes. He had seen so many horrible things and they all made some kind of sense to him. "I'm a monster."

"We're all monsters." She thought for a moment, "You do good in the world."

He was startled; she had never been kind to him before. "Thank you."

"Robert, we all have to face our demons, you have to make peace with your work."

"Like you've made peace with yours?" He smiled again, hoping she'd see the humor.

"I do good in the world too." She raised her hand and slapped him again, then she tenderly kissed his lips, "don't forget that."

"How could I forget?" He let his hand rest in the curve of her waist. He got up to leave, but felt drawn to her for one more moment. "Thank you for understanding."

She nodded and showed him out to the lobby, "we're here for you." She walked back into the session room and he turned to see Flo behind the desk.

"Time to settle up." He reached into his pockets for his billfold. He pulled out one hundred and handed it to her. "Robert, do come again." She giggled at her joke.

"Flo, who are you kidding? You know nobody ever comes."

He walked out into the cold air. He felt better. But this was the last time. Absolutely the last time. Then he thought about those laces. _Well, maybe the penultimate time_.


End file.
